Eternal Memories
by Blood Red Emerald
Summary: The Taijiya will deny all assumptions of her feelings toward the Houshi. What will she do when they are suddenly stripped away? MS


Eternal Memories

Blood Red Emerald

You know our story. A hanyou, a kitsune, and three foolish humans on an eternal quest that would lead us nowhere. Now that I look back on it, I regret most of the things I did. I lied, murdered and stole, all to avenge my fallen family.

We had a tight group, my friends and I. There was no doubt that the arrogant hanyou had fallen drastically for the young priestess. I was like a sister to her, and Shippo her son. Then there's Houshi-sama.

Damn pervert. Always putting his cursed hands where they don't belong. Almost everyday it was the same routine: grope, blush, smack. I hated it. But I only realized how much his tender ministrations affected me until they were suddenly stripped away.

A single, crystallized tear slid down my face as I chocked back a sob, trying to fight the inevitable cries tearing out of my throat. Houshi-sama, my Houshi-sama, was dead.

No, not dead. Murdered. Scrapes, punctures and bruises marred his perfect face; blood matted his hair and flowed down his temple freely. An arm was dislocated, twisted behind him at an impossible angle. His robes were stained with not only his blood, but the blood of Naraku.

He had given his life, his happiness, to avenge Kohaku, to lay Kikyou to eternal rest; to finally redeem his family name and break the curse that had plagued his mind ever since he was a small child.

I reached forward, and with trembling hands, flipped him over onto his back. I smoothed my scarred hands over his perfect face, not taking in the reality that I would never hear his cheerful laugh. I would never feel his caresses, or ever truly touch his whole palm, his curse broken.

Another tear slid down my face, this time landing with an inaudible plop, echoing through my mind. It had landed on his fatal head wound, the one that killed him. Naraku had intended to thrust his hand through his stomach, but a lucky dodge earned him a blow to his head, effectively doing its' job.

I wiped the tear off his face, and finally broke down.

I collapsed onto him, taking in the scent that was Miroku: of incense and spice, mingled with that of decay and despair, things that never should go with one as carefree as he.

I threw my arms around his neck, clutching his still form to me, sobbing in his shoulder. I wished that for once, he would wake up and grope me, just this once. But alas, not even Miroku can grope a girl in death. _He didn't deserve to die! _I thought, a lump in my throat and uncontrollable tears now streaming down my face.

I sat up, and looked at his face, his expression in death. His crystal blue eyes were opened wide, glazed over and expressionless. I reached up and gently closed his eyelids, sniffling as I did so.

"Sleep, Houshi-sama," I managed to choke out. "It's over."

I leaned in and brushed my lips against his, softly at first, but then pressing into him, half expecting him to wake up and kiss me back.

I slowly stood and gently took his extra rosary beads he had used for his Kazaana, and I wrapped them around my wrist as he had once done.

"I will never forget you." I whispered fiercely, tears coming to my eyes and the lump in my throat hardening, making it hard to breathe all of the sudden. "I will never love another, as I have loved you. You showed me kindness, acceptance and love, even if I didn't return the feelings." I swallowed and continued. "I love you, Miroku, more than anything in this life or the next."

Looking around, I spotted a bush with a strange flower blossoming from its branches. I left my beloved to pick one of the blooms, my tribute to him. When I reached forward to pick one, a burning sensation spread through my body. I winced and looked at my hand, blood welling up and sliding down my finger.

Looking at the flower, I realized it had thorns down the whole branch, my blood on the one I had foolishly chosen. I winced and plucked it anyway, marveling at how much it was like my Miroku: a bold, sexy red framed with dangerous thorns, preventing anything to get too close to it.

I set it down on his chest, kissing his forehead before standing up. "Good bye, my Miroku." I whispered, picking up my Haraikotsu and Kirara's unconscious form, walking into the dense forest, never to be heard from again.

R&R!

Blood Red Emerald


End file.
